Reflections
by Sailor Zoisite aka Shinigami
Summary: I'm Trowa Barton no Miko! As in, the one from Endless Waltz. I'm actually the Miko for his whole family, but I digress. This fic is just Nanashi/Triton reminiscing about his relationship with my baby. ^_^ So, uhm, 3+3, 3x3 (and it's *not* masturbation, I


Dedication: This is for Utako, the wonderful woman who made me my Trowa voice-clips! She wasn't expecting payment, but I offered because hey, she got me goodies! So this is what she got! Hope you like it, babe.

Reflections

By Sailor Zoisite, the Wannabe Shinigami; Trowa Barton no Miko

He never knew. He always _assumed_ he knew. Had he asked, I would have told him, though talking has never been my strong suit. Then . . . he died. He died, and I was free from his overwhelming presence hanging over me, nagging me to talk and insulting me when I didn't. I suppose it was because he had been spoiled all his life and was used to getting his way. Then again, I've seen people do odd things when they don't like how they feel, or don't know how to express it.

Take Wufei and Relena, for example. One always ranting about justice, women, and weaklings, and how the last two shouldn't fight, the other going on and on about Absolute Pacifism and how it doesn't matter the gender, as long as they're willing to stand up for what they believe in. Never stay in the room next to Relena Darlian-Chang and Wufei Chang's room during one of their fights. You'll never get to sleep, because they have an interesting way of making up. I think they fight only because making up with each other is so fun. And people wonder why they have so many children.

I never had a childhood. Ever since I could remember, when I care to remember at all, I've been a soldier, fighting and killing. Innocence was cracked by the war, shattered completely when that first mercenary touched me. Four is a horrible age to lose your innocence, freezing you sexually and emotionally at that age. So, when Trowa started coming on to me, I didn't know how to react. I simply didn't react. That sent the message that not only was I not going to do anything should he take me, but also that my lack of speech made me stupid in some way. Trowa assumed a lot. I would have told him my reasons for going more stoic than normal when he touched me, would have given him a thousand reasons to get to know me, had he not assumed he knew why I was silent and actually asked me.

I hated him. I hated him for touching me, talking to me, being near me. He reminded me so much of the mercenaries, of my old way of life, that it sparked a natural reaction in my soul. If it scares you, it must be bad. Bad things should be hated. He scared me, like the mercenaries, and they had been bad to me. So I hated him in return for what had happened to me before.

I was fifteen. I'd been working for him and his family for about three years, and never once had he given me any reason to trust him. Two or three nights a month kept me away from him. Still (and I know I'm alternating between hating the man and caring for him) he was my first crush, so to speak. The sex never had anything to do with love; but then again, he never took without giving back. It was a while before I could respond, but once he'd broken past _those_ barriers he made sure that I got as much pleasure out of warming his bed as he did. I hated him for making me feel that way. I always felt dirty afterward, sluttish. It didn't matter that _he_ came to _me_, it made me feel like a whore. Worse, because never once did he pay me. That would have made sharing his bed a little easier, had I made money from it. It would have lessened my guilty conscious for secretly wanting him to visit me.

I've heard Duo talking about love-hate relationships, usually poking fun at Heero and Relena, and it would seem that that was what Trowa and I had. Well, a lust-hate relationship. We hated each other one moment, and the very next I was under him, legs above my head or wrapped around his waist and whimpering with pleasure as he thrust into me.

God, I loved that man. I hated him. I could never quite make up my mind. All I really know is that even though I'm glad he's gone, a little part of me will always mourn his passing.

~*~ Owari ~*~


End file.
